


Waiting

by TheonSugden



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Child Abuse, M/M, Modern AU, Self-Worth Issues, Theon has true love but still struggles and makes me love him even more, artist theon, the starks minus robb aren't big theon boosters here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 06:13:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3198428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheonSugden/pseuds/TheonSugden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theon has no idea why Robb wants him or loves him. The only thing he knows is it can't last.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting

People always tell Theon, after a momentary, silent disdain for the Greyjoy in him, how happy he must be to have such a big family. He doesn’t just have a husband, he has a father, and a mother. Brothers and sisters.

He always nods, and nods, and finds his best appreciative smile, and waits for them to leave. And they aren’t entirely wrong. He wouldn’t be here now without the Starks. They kept him in food and clothing when his mum was too sick and his dad literally spat in his face, when his brothers ignored him or beat him, when his sister tried her best to help, but never had time, because she had to do everything for everyone and often saw Theon as the annoying baby of the family.

He never has the courage to tell these well-intentioned acquaintances that while the Starks had been good to him, he was not supposed to be family. He was just supposed to be the kid Robb brought home from school for hearty suppers and sleepovers. Robb was supposed to get tired of his smirk and the way he snapped if you looked at him the wrong way. Most people got tired of it. Robb shouldn’t have been any different.

When Robb didn’t get tired of him, when Robb instead defended him and protected him, he was just supposed to be that friend the rest of the family tolerated, the one who always hung around making awkward small talk before he and Robb went out to the pub or to a match. 

When Robb, foam hiding his upper lip, hand trembling on the bartop, asked him out for a date, Theon was stunned. He’d always…always loved Robb - he’d loved him from the first time Robb had knocked seven bells out of Maron and Rodrik for laying a hand on him - but he was lucky to just be in Robb’s life, to watch him find the happiness he deserved. Something inside Theon screamed to say no, to get out before it was too late, but “what took you so long?” slipped from his mouth instead. Robb blushed, beamed…Theon wanted to ask him why. What he saw in his loser mate with the crap dad to make him so happy, happier than he’d been since they were boys.

A few years later, when they stood in the sept, exchanging rings on those same trembling hands, he wanted to ask again. Why me? Don’t you know what you’re giving up? As Theon tried to find words to leave while he could, he remembered the day Robb had broken the news. He remembered Catelyn’s muted horror, Ned’s pained grin, Arya’s confusion, Sansa’s pageant smile, Jon’s grimace.

He knew that in their eyes, he’d corrupted Robb, shattered the Stark dreams of their firstborn and his perfect wife and perfect children. He wanted to tell them he understood, that he’d tried his best to say no, because he knew Robb deserved only the best. Didn’t they see that saying no would have broken Robb’s heart? Theon had to say yes. Theon knew he was unworthy, but he had to say yes. He had to keep seeing the light shining in those eyes. Any day, any month, any year, Robb would come to his senses and find his true soulmate, and give them all the little Lyannas and Neds and Brandons that they could ever want. For now, Theon had to say yes. And, selfishly, he just wanted those precious few nights in Robb’s arms. He needed them.

When he and Robb decorated their flat, Robb had given him charcoal and paper to help make the walls truly theirs. Theon was surprised Robb remembered…he’d almost forgotten himself. The hours he’d spent as a child drawing the home he’d wanted, needed, rooms full of toys, rooms full of pirate treasure, rooms full of families who hugged him and told him stories. His dad had found all of them hidden under the bed and burned them one by one, laughing each time Theon had begged him to stop.

He still hears his father’s voice sometimes, hears his laugh. Mocking Theon for expecting to be happy. Asking where he thinks Robb goes during his work breaks, why he thinks Robb would ever feel anything for him but pity. Telling him all that Catelyn and Ned hiss in Robb’s ear when he isn’t there. Telling him that if he wants to keep Robb he has to keep quiet, be the best little puppet he can be, because who would ever want the real him.

Theon wakes up choking on his own tears, panics to see if Robb is still next to him. Sometimes he wakes Robb up, sometimes he just watches him sleep. He wants to ask Robb if any of what his father says, any of what he feels, is true, but he’s so scared that if he says the words, they will be true. They’ll burrow into Robb’s brain and he’ll leave, he’ll never look back. And no matter how much Theon tells himself he’d be fine with that, because Robb would be happy, he knows he’s a coward, he knows he’d die without Robb.

Robb wouldn’t want to hear that. Robb doesn’t see him that way. Robb must love something about him. What, he doesn’t know. No one knows. Only Robb knows.

Until he does know, he enjoys it while he can. He lays his head on Robb’s chest, lets Robb’s arms envelop him, smiles at the stubble against his neck. He watches the sun come up.

He watches, and he waits.


End file.
